Birdspotting – a Bluffer’s Guide

Last summer the Coffey family (UK division, plus temporary assignees from New Zealand) spent three weeks tramping around bits of northern and western Scotland. A great deal of this time was spent standing on assorted promontories, peering at the adjacent cliffs and trying to identify exactly which bits of the local fauna we were currently looking at. (“Are those puffin balls?” “Yes, I believe they are.”)

Birdspotting - the inverse law

Not being keen twitchers might be considered by some to be a disadvantage, but for us the opposite was true; being blissfully unaware of anything resembling a bird-related fact merely increased the breadth and implausibility of our sightings. In just one afternoon we spotted seventeen species on the endangered list, not to mention eight officially extinct ones and three that were new to science (puffins in particular owe their ability to fly solely to a cartoonesque ignorance of physics).

Starting with the arctic skewer (a bird rarely sighted off any British coast, but apparent to us in suspiciously seagull-esque numbers), we moved swiftly on to yet more exotic finds. At great remove we unquestionably spotted a Madagascan Serpent Eagle, and while for most people the Gunnison Sage Grouse is only to be found in a remote part of southern Colorado, we were blessed with several.

Emboldened by these early finds we were delighted to find lowland gorillas lurking in the mists of the Western Isles, even if the freshening breeze did tend to alarm these timid creatures, causing them to flee on our approach. So successful were we, in fact, that I was able to derive an empirical law of wildlife observation, which I share with you now:

The further away it is, the rarer it might as well be.

Birdspotting graph


Edit: For those of you who arrive here searching for “arctic skewer,” I’m reliably informed it’s actually spelled “skua.” Searching for that might get you slightly better results than this nonsense.

Great Eyebrows of our Time

Denis Healey

Most people subjected to my conversation over the last few years will have come away with the impression that I’m obsessed to an almost monomaniacal extent with beards. This may not be an entirely false impression, but never let it be said I don’t let my interests branch out. Today I would like to draw attention to an under-appreciated part of the human facial anatomy: the eyebrow.

Frequently neglected to the point that many people submit themselves to full eyebrowectomies (opting instead for a sort of trompe-l’oeil arrangement that satisfies neither aesthetics nor function), the eyebrow may in fact be the most important part of the face save for the eyes themselves. As the Dude’s rug did for his room, they tie one’s visage together, and while the data is not conclusive, their removal may well increase the risk of being mauled by a marmot. No less an authority than Wikipedia claims:

Eyebrows also prevent debris such as dandruff and other small objects from falling into the eyes, as well as providing a more sensitive sense for detecting objects being near the eye, like small insects.

We can thus see that not only are your eyebrows protecting you from groundhogs in your bath, but from beetles and small meteorites getting in your eyes, hence the phrase “beetling brows”. It has to be said that I’ve never noticed my eyebrows exhibiting some kind of spider sense in the presence of nearby bugs, but then I’ve never really paid any attention, a failing which is all my own.

As well as these practical considerations, eyebrows have been heavily involved in some of the great politics of the last hundred years, none more so than those of Denis Healey (pictured above), who on special occasions would allow civil servants to twang his magnificent brows in exchange for mint toffees. Reaching the rank of Major during WWII, Healey was greatly prized by his comrades due to his eyebrows’ ability to detect Germans through up to three thicknesses of plasterboard or a thin sheet of lead. But it was only after his honourable discharge that his eyebrows truly came into their own, delivering several hustings speeches when Healey himself was incapacitated from fatigue.

Finally, a great number of entertaining facial expressions would be completely impossible without the humble brow. Even their latin name, supercilium, hints at a whole class of withering expression that would otherwise be unknown to humanity. Napoleon attempted to render his armies immune to the element of surprise by ordering the wholesale removal of all hair above the bridge of the nose, achieving great initial success as his armies rampaged, expressionless, across Europe. In the end, however, he merely hastened his own downfall, misinterpreting as approval the sarcastic reception accorded to his Waterloo battle plans due to his advisors’ inability to appropriately arch their brows. The rest is a matter of record, but the crucial role eyebrows played has been sadly plucked from the forehead of history.


Incidentally, scientists recently endorsed my views on the optimal nature of the Jennifer Connelly eyebrow, and I believe this is only right and proper.

Darlemur

Darlemur

I appear to have monkeys on the brain at the moment. I blame King Cricket.

Hello.

Red Howler Monkey::ring::

Me: “Hello?”

Them: “Hello.”

Me: “Yes, hello.”

Them: “Hello?”

Me: “Yes, we’ve established that.”

Them: “As’salaamu aleikum?”

Me: “That’s pretty much ‘hello’ again, isn’t it? Are you going to tell me who’s calling?”

Them: *click*

This happens about five times a week despite my resolute refusal to become a Mr Islam (about once every fifth call they at least tell me who I’m supposed to be). Mr Islam is presumably a man who used to have my phone number, but emigrated to Nicaragua to avoid being pestered by people with the communicatory grace of howler monkeys. Unfortunately for him he will now be having to deal with actual howler monkeys, but howler monkeys are at least diurnal creatures, and do not call then rudely hang up at half past bloody midnight. They can also be temporarily silenced with a well placed banana, a technique which so far has merely made my telephone somewhat sticky.

And yes, this entire entry is just a flimsy excuse to put that picture up. He deserves something rather better, but never mind.

The Reverse Cnut

BaobabsEarlier this week, the EU announced its approval of the baobab fruit for use in smoothies and cereal bars. This historic move ends millions of years of speculation as to the safety of the fruit; after evolving aeons ago with little thought for proper licensing procedures, the baobab has languished in a regulatory hinterland since antediluvian times. Small-scale initial trials across the entirety of Africa had proven inconclusive, and it was only with the establishment of the EU in 1993 that the baobab’s ratification as an approved food item could begin in earnest.

The EU is expected to rule next week on the certification of mountains (to be available at first in powdered form only), and on the broader question of whether import tariffs should be imposed on transatlantic weather systems.